


Five Times Pietro Tried To Annoy Clint

by Paragraphss



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Background Steve/Tony, Bisexual Hawkeye, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Cute Ending, Deaf Clint Barton, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Happy, Love, M/M, Pietro Maximoff Feels, Pietro Maximoff Lives, Pissed off Clint, hawksilver - Freeform, quicksilver - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 11:31:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11966475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paragraphss/pseuds/Paragraphss
Summary: Five times Pietro tried to annoy Clint, and one time Clint annoyed him.





	Five Times Pietro Tried To Annoy Clint

**1\. Training**

Pietro could be a little shit at times. The Avengers knew that. But his favourite hobby since his revival after the battle on Sokovia, was pissing Clint off at every opportunity he got. Whether it was just moving Clint's stuff, or messing with his equipment, or mocking him when he ran too quick for Clint's arrows to impale him, Pietro found a way.

For some reason, after the miracle that brought him back to the land of the living, Pietro was under the impression that he was invincible, and that nothing could strike him down. That, of course, was a lie, because Clint was sure he had socked him in the jaw at least three times, sending him sprawling onto the floor (not that Clint was counting or anything).

Pietro had decided that Clint was going to be his target, and so he was hell-bent on making the archers life as difficult as he possibly could. When Clint forgot his hearing aids, Pietro would run around him, shouting his name even though he kmew that Clint couldn't hear him. All he could see who as a silver blur, and the faint movement of his mouth as he ran. That had happened numerous times, and Clint had grown bored of that, so Pietro was forced to change tactics.

He had decided to start secretly raiding Clint's food stash, which was hidden up in his nest in the vents above the library. Pietro had discovered this when he followed Clint, and heard him rustling plastic bags, and the telltale crunch of crisps. When Clint got dispatched on a mission overseas, Pietro took the time to take packet after packet and store them in his room. Clint wasn't bothered by that, as he had bought new packets anyway, so Pietro had to start afresh again. 

Which lead him onto his most annoying tactic yet. 

When Clint started training in the tower, he laid down firm rules. He wanted a few hours of the week to himself, where he wouldn't be disturbed and wouldn't have any distractions. So when he grabbed his bow and quiver and entered the training room, he locked the doors behind him, and took out his hearing aids. Pietro managed to slip behind him before the doors slid shut, the silver blur hiding in a dark corner of the room. Clint missed him, and when his hearing aids were out, Pietro could move as freely as he wished. As long as he kept out of Clint's line of vision.

As Clint loaded the bow and pulled back the string, the muscles in his arms rolling as he tensed, Pietro couldn't help but admire the physical strength of the older man. He watched as his arms pulled back, and his fingers flexed, then they opened, and the arrow went flying into the dead center of the target. Clint rolled his neck and loaded another arrow, muscles protruding from his arms. Pietro stayed by the back of the room, watching Clint's posture and learning his techniques.

After Clint fired a few more shots, Pietro decided to put his plan into motion. Clint tended to look away when his arrow fired, so Pietro would be able to retrieve the arrow from the air while it flew. Clint would miss it, and without his hearing aids in, he wouldn't be able to hear Pietro giggling in the corner, nor would he be able to hear the whooshing sound that Pietro's running made. As Clint pulled back the bow string once more, Pietro slunk against the wall, reading to spring into action and get the arrow. 

Clint narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath, then released the arrow. Pietro pushed off the wall and flew forwards, grabbing the arrow by the shaft. He twirled it around his fingers as Clint looked back at the target, confusion covering his face. Pietro chuckled and sat the arrow on the table, watching Clint as he shrugged and loaded another arrow up. It was the same story; the arrow seemingly disappeared before it even hit the target. 

Clint was getting annoyed now. He didn't know that it was Pietro, but the fact that his arrows were going missing was really pissing him off. Pietro laughed loudly as Clint growled and pulled another arrow out quickly and shot it. Pietro let that one hit the target, to annoyed Clint even more. It confused him more, to be honest, as he grabbed another arrow and pulled it back slowly.

Pietro ran forward and clutched it in his hands, laughing giddily as Clint grunted in frustration. Pietro set the arrow down next to the pile of others, and folded his arms, glancing around the room. He spotted Clint's quiver, resting on his back, filled with arrows. A mischievous smile danced on his lips and he crept forwards, using a burst of speed to propelled himself to behind the archer. 

He reached out an grabbed a small handful of arrows, gripping them in his first before flitting back to the wall, where he deposited then in his growing pile. He did that a few more times, alternating between taking a few, and stealing them out of the air. Clint's supply was dwindling, and he was growing more and more angry. Pietro smiled as he watched Clint click a few buttons, probably out of anger, and take his final arrow from the quiver. Pietro got ready to pounce. 

He could feel a slight change in Clint's demeanor, and how he was turning further away from where Pietro hid. He positioned his head to head couldn't see Pietro at all, and thumbed his arrow, watching the glowing tip. As he let it fly, he turned his head like he always did, and waited.

Pietro surged forwards and grabbed the arrow, giggling gleefully. But as he calmed down and his body stopped vibrating from excitement, he noticed the arrow was still humming, and as he leaned down to examine it, a piercing shock jolted up his arm. He cried out as the electric shock travelled around his body, forcing him to the floor. Clint smirked as he put his hearing aids in, finally able to hear Pietro grunting on the floor. He spotted Pietro's new stash of arrows ans he took them back, sliding them into their quiver. 

"Not so sneaky now, are you, you prick?" Clint sneered, retrieving his final arrow from Pietro's hand. Pietro gasped and fell back, panting heavily. Clint packed up and left. 

Looks like Pietro would have to find another way.

 

**2\. Tea**

Clint wouldn't admit it to the team, but he was an avid tea drinker. He did drink coffee, a lot more than he drank tea, but he enjoyed the sweet taste of tea more. He was a one-sugar kind of guy, and Pietro knew that. He had caught Clint multiple times making tea late at night, when he thought that everyone was asleep. So Pietro decided to make use of this information.

Clint usually went and had his cup of tea at one in the morning. Steve, Sam, Wanda and Natasha would be sleeping, and Bruce and Tony would be up in their lab, three or four floors above them. They had their own coffee machine up there, so they wouldn't need to come to the kitchen. Vision would be inactive in the living room, but Clint wasn't too bothered about him knowing. He probably didn't even know what tea was. He had gotten used to Pietro crashing his secret tea drinking sessions, so he didn't worry about that either. Rhodes was away. Thor was off with Jane somewhere, probably. So Clint was safe to make his cup of tea. 

But when he went down that night, two days after the training incident, a cup was already on the side, with a small note underneath it. Clint lifted the mug and removed the paper, skimming over it.

_Made this for you cause you seemed tired today. How you like it._

_PM._

Pietro was right, Clint had been exceptionally tired that day, and most of the Avengers knew it. He had been grouchy, snapping at the others and holing up in the training room. Though, Clint was sceptical, but it didn't look tampered with, and when he smelled it, it didn't smell bad. He dipped a finger in and tasted it; it tasted pretty normal. After deciding that it was decent enough to drink, he took a small sip. Normal. 

Being brave, he took a larger gulp, and hummed in content. It was exactly how he liked it, maybe even slightly better. He took the mug and note and slipped back to his room, nursing the drink while he watched The Hunger Games.

The next night, it was the same story. He wandered down to the kitchen to find a ready-made cup of tea on the side, with a note that contained Pietro's initials. He took a large sip and went back to his room, this time putting Arrow on. It went on like that for another week, before Pietro decided it was time to strike.

When he made Clint's tea, he added a much larger spoonful of sugar, and a smaller amount of milk. Clint didn't seem to notice too much of a difference, so the next night he added a spoon and a half of sugar, and cut down a quarter of the milk used. Again, Clint didn't notice anything. Growing frustrated, Pietro dumped three heaped spoonfuls of sugar in, and a sparse amount of milk. Clint, getting so used to his tea being made properly, didn't bother checking to see if it was right, and he took the cup back to his room obliviously. 

When Clint's door closed, Pietro ran over, pressing his ear against the hard wood. Clint was messing with the TV, trying to find something to watch. Pietro giggled quietly as Clint found something, and picked up the mug. As he raised it too his lips and took a swig, a note fell into his hand. He had already swallowed the liquid when the sugary sweetness and slight bitterness invaded his tast buds and he growled, unfolding the note in his hand.

_Got you._

_PM._

Clint slammed the mug down and stalked to the door, throwing it open. Pietro disappeared down the hall with a wink, shamelessly raking his eyes over Clint's topless figure, before he was gone in a flash. Clint roared down the corridor as he raced after him, screaming his name and slamming a fist against.

That was the last time he was going to accept something from Pietro again.

 

**3\. Running**

Clint used to use the running machines in the tower, but when they didn't go up to his running speed, he gave up using them, instead figuring out a route that is quite hidden, and that wasn't too far away from the tower. He had been using the route for a few months now, and none of the other Avengers knew about it. Except, of course, for the cheeky speedster that seemed to know absolutely everything about him.

As he veered off of the road and onto the woodland path, he picked up the pace, muscles pumping. He's breathing was normal for now, but it wouldn't be like that for long. Soon enough, his lungs would be burning and his muscles would be screaming at him to stop. Ever since he got shot in Sokovia, he couldn't run for long before his body gave up and he tumbled to the ground. That's how he knew that he needed to turn back and slow down, when his face hit the road and he ate dirt.

And then, the familiar figure of Pietro Fucking Maximoff flew past, shouting 'Keep up Old Man!' As he ran past. Clint huffed and tried to push himself faster, but he didn't even get fifty feet before Pietro came flying past again, shouting at him to go faster. Clint growled and ran faster, going from jogging, to almost sprinting. He got further than before, but Pietro came whizzing past. This time, he slowed down to match Clint's pace, running backwards to face him. A cocky grin was spread across his lips, as his eyes trailed all over Clint's sweaty face. 

"How slow are you, Old Man?" He teased. Clint went quiet, before his fist lashed out and collided with Pietro's chest. The younger boy went veering away from him, and Clint sighed peacefully, slowing down to conserve his energy. But he could feel his lungs tightening, and he could hear his breaths become laboured. 

And then his legs gave out and he went down, rolling to a stop on the ground. He spat the dirt out of his mouth and climbed to his feet, ignoring Pietro sniggering a few feet away from him. He stood up and walked over to Pietro silently. 

The speedster watching him with a smirk, but as Clint reached him, he pulled his fist back and punched Pietro in the nose. The boy reeled back and hit the ground. Clint let out a chuckle and began running back, ignoring Pietro's protests behind him.

 

**4\. Sweaters**

Clint got cold very easily. Natasha knew that, so whenever they were paired up for a small mission, Natasha made sure to sneak extra blankets onto the jet. After a while, Clint went out and bought two bags full of sweaters, each one fluffy and soft and nice. He wore them when he knew the team wouldn't be around, so he could wear them whenever he wanted. 

He had absolutely hundreds of sweaters all hidden in his vents, where nobody would be able to find them. He had them all stashed away, each one ready to be worn and warm Clint's freezing bones. But recently, he noticed his stash had begun to dwindle. Clint had a feeling he knew who the culprit was. 

Pietro Maximoff had been walking around the tower, sporting a fluffy sweater like he was a model. He had borrowed it from Clint's vents, and being Clint's favourite, it smelled just like him. Pietro loved it. He was just glad Clint hadn't caught him yet, but he was sure that the archer knew it was him. After all, he was the only one who knew about Clint's vent hideout.

Pietro sunk into the sofa, clutching the long sleeves of the sweater. It was too big for him, because Pietro was much smaller than Clint. It swamped his tiny frame, and made it ten times comfier. Wanda was smiling at him from the love seat, where she was snuggled up to Vision. Steve and Tony were sitting rather close on the sofa next to him, but Pietro wasn't really going to call them out on anything. He was too busy waiting for Clint to come and find him.

Soon enough, Hawkeye stood in the doorway, stern expression covering his features. Pietro stood up and sauntered over, a small smirk playing on his lips. Clint grabbed his clothed wrist and tugged him out into the hallway, where he pushed Pietro against the wall and crossed his arms.

"Nice sweater, Kid." He teased, narrowing his eyes. Pietro fiddled with the sleeve of his- borrowed- sweater. 

"Thanks." He flashed Clint a grin. "It smells like you."

Clint grumbled and cast his eyes down the hallway. Pietro giggled and clasped his hands together. Clint looked back tiredly.

"Just.. Don't take anymore, okay?" He muttered. Pietro frowned, placing a hand on his arm.

"You can have it back. I'm sorry." Pietro murmured, tugging at the sleeve. Clint waved him off.

"No, it's... it's fine. You- you look cute in it, I guess." Clint groaned and wiped a hand down his face. Pietro smiled and clapped his hands together.

"Thanks, Old Man." He smirked and ran off, a silver trail leaving the only explanation as to where he went.

Clint watched the trail disappear, a small smile on his face. He didn't know what it was about Pietro, but even though the kid annoyed him to no end, he couldn't bring himself to hate him.

 

**5\. Natasha**

For as long as Clint could remeber, Natasha had been his best friend. They had been through thick-and-thin together. They had been partners for years now, and they both knew each other in ans out. 

So why was she avoiding him? 

It was obvious she was. Whenever Clint entered a room, she was quick to make her exit, Pietro hot on her heels. He didn't think they were doing anything; the heated stares Pietro have him made him sure of that. But why was Natasha suddenly ignoring him? He had tried to talk to her a few mornings ago, but she had just glanced at him and left. Pietro had come in a few minutes later, grinning like a madman.

Clint was growing more and more frustrated. He had grown so used to having Nat by his side, that he didn't know how to cope with her gone. What annoyed him more, was the fact that she had begun talking to Pietro more and more. The little shit was stealing his best friend, and he was not happy about it.

Clint decided to take out his anger on a training dummy. He took out his knife and slashed it to pieces, angrily ripping the blade across the fabric and straw. When the dummy was destroyed beyond repair, he switched to the electronic dummies. 

Pietro watched him from the doors, Natasha by his side. He could easily tell that Clint was imagining that every single electronic dummy was him. His attacks were growing more vicious, more violent. His stance was slipping, his face was darkening, as his swings were sluggish and bored. When he fell onto the ground with a thud, Natasha placed a hand on Pietro's shoulder, telling him to leave so she could sort him out. Pietro nodded and ran off, but then reappeared a few seconds later, hiding behind the pile of sandbags. He could barely hear Natasha and Clint speaking. 

"Clint? What's up?" She murmured. Pietro peeked his head over the edge just in time to see Clint shove Natasha away from him. The spy wobbled on her feet but kept her balance, looking at Clint with concern. Clint put his head between his knees. 

Pietro was growing worried too. He couldn't help but feel that this was his fault, because he was trying to get Tasha's help, and it was taking her away from Clint. She said it was fine, that Clint would understand, but it didn't feel like he was. 

Natasha had promised him that she'd help him go on a date with the archer. They were constantly talking about the plan, and to avoid accidentally spilling the beans, Natasha had made the decision to avoid Clint until it was done. Apparently, it was taking a toll of Clint, so she was forced to change her plan. Pietro watched as Natasha attempted to hug her, but her best friend simply placed a hand on her abdomen to keep her away. He felt terrible for causing it.

Natasha gave up and walked off, telling him to take care. Pietro decided to make himself known, and he walked out from behind the sandbags, making it seem like he had just walked in.

"Clint?" He asked. The man looked up at him before his gaze turned to the floor again. Pietro sighed and lurched he'd forwards, reappearing by his side. Clint tensed.

"I'm sorry for taking Nat away. She was just helping me." Pietro apologised. Clint turned to face him.

"Help with what?" He deadpanned. Pietro gulped. 

"Nothing." He squeaked. Clint rolled his eyes.

"Just piss off, Kid." He stood up and lifted his knife again, flinging it towards the target. It hit dead centre, like Pietro guessed it would. When his eyes drew themselves away from the knife embedded in the target, Clint was gone.

 

**+1. Date Night**

Clint was finally going on a date with the girl he had been chatting to at the coffee shop for a few months now. He had had it planned for nearly three weeks now, ever since the tea incident. Pietro had stopped talking to him ever since he exploded at him in the training room, and Clint saw it as a calm before the storm situation. He had no doubt that Pietro was planning something, but tonight was date night, and he was pretty sure Pietro wouldn't try anything. Hopefully. 

Natasha was stood in front of him, tying his tie for him. He could do it himself, but Natasha insisted that she make him look as good as can be, and Clint trusted her. She smoothed down his crisp shirt and tucked the back of his tie in, then quickly shoved the bottom of his shirt into the waistband of his pants. He gasped and swatted her hands away as she laughed softly. 

"Sorry. You had a duck tail." She smiled. Clint gave her a sincere smile back, then pulled her into a hug. She was hesitant, but Clint understood that. After all she went through, Clint couldn't blame her. But he was never going to judge her for that. She was his best friend.

"Thanks, Nat." He pressed a little kiss to her cheek, then grabbed his blazer off if the chair, slipping it on. Nat shook her head and pulled it off of him, rolling up his sleeves to the elbow. Nat gave him a one-over then a thumbs up, moving his tie slightly into place. She patted his back and pushed him out of the room as she put his blazer on a hanger and slipped it back into the wardrobe. Clint walked down the hall, fiddling with the little spider bracelet on his wrist. Nat had gotten it for him when he first brought her into Shield, and he had gotten her an arrow necklace. He hadn't taken it off properly since.

As he passed the living room, Steve wished him luck, and Tony wolf-whistled him. Wanda and Vision weren't there, probably up in the lab with Bruce. Clint could hear Sam, but couldn't see him. He was probably hidden around the wall. He caught Pietro giving him a dirty look out of the corner of his eye, but ignored it. He was probably still angry that Clint managed to catch him when he messed up the tea. 

Clint waved goodbye and exited the tower, hailing a cab. He had weapons on him, obviously, hidden away under his waistband. He had a knife strapped to his ankle too. He fiddled with his bracelet the whole ride, until he finally reached the restaurant. Lacy wasn't outside, so he stood and waited. A few minutes later, Lacy came strutting down the path in gold heels, a black dress flowing down her petite frame. Her blonde hair tumbled over her shoulder in silky waves. Clint smiled as she walked over.

"Hey Clint!" She chirped. Her bag was hanging off her shoulder and she tugged on the strap. Clint offered his hand and she took it, and they entered the restaurant. Clint asked for his name and the waitress took them to their table, handing them both a menu. She left them be, and Clint scanned the drinks menu. 

"You look lovely." Clint smiled. Lacy tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Thank you. You look very handsome." Lacy's gaze wandered, and her pupils dilated. When Clint glanced at what grabbed her attention, a young man standing at the restaurant bar was smiling at her. Clint sighed and gave him a one-over, seeing why Lacy was so fixated on him. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, and slightly untucked. He had a blazer threw over his shoulder, and a jawline that could cut him. He didn't blame her. But as he watched the bar, he caught sight of a familiar head of white hair and startling blue eyes.

Pietro had followed him? 

He subconsciously raked his eyes down his suit and slim body, staring straight into his eyes. Pietro did look rather... handsome, in the suit. He could hear Lacy coughing, but he was too caught up in looking at Pietro's smirk and his fingers gesturing for him to come over to care.

But when he finally turned back, and caught sight of Lacy's knowing stare, he gave her an apologetic smile.

"I'm so... I'm so sorry, it's just- just this is wrong. I..." Clint didn't know what to say. He was about to ditch someone on a date. But Lacy didn't seem to care. She was eyeing up the blonde guy anyway.

"I think we'd be better off as friends, Clint. You're sweet, but we both know that you aren't what I want, and I'm not what you want. Go get him, Clint. You deserve it." Lacy placed a hand over his, ans squeezed it. Clint stood up and and hugged her, thanking her quietly. And then he turned towards Pietro, who was watching him as he walked.

When Clint reached the bar, Pietro slid a glass over to him. Lacy was speaking to the waitress, cancelling their reservation, then she was walking over to the blonde guy. Pietro raised his glass to him.

"Fancy seeing you here." He grinned. Clint took a sip of his drink.

"Yeah." Clint smirked to himself. Pietro finished his drink and pushed it away. Clint placed his down and walked a few steps closer to Pietro, who's heartbeat was increasing by the millisecond.

Clint placed a hand on his waist, slipping beneath his suit jacket. Pietro tilted his head and Clint leaned down. Pietro could feel his breath on his neck as Clint grew closer, until their lips were just touching. Pietro closed his eyes and leaned in, only to find nothing there. 

Clint was standing back, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Annoying, isn't it?" He teased, as he turned away and began walking to the exit.

Pietro died on the spot.

 

 

 


End file.
